Netflix’s action comedy series “The Brothers Sun” is delicious. Not only is it action-packed, hilarious, and thrilling, it is brain candy with its nuanced depictions of the myriad identities and loyalties pulling at Asians and Asian Americans. It is my favorite kind of show: using a sexy hook like gangsters to discuss deeper issues, such as conflicting values of family versus self, duty versus freedom, power versus service, community versus individuality, and love versus hate.
The story revolves around the newly reunited Sun brothers: legendary killer Charles “Chairleg” Sun (Justin Chien) and soft, aspiring improv actor Bruce (Sam Song Li). When their father, the powerful Taiwanese triad leader Big Sun (Johnny Kou), is shot by a mysterious assassin, older brother Charles is sent to Los Angeles to protect his mother, Eileen (Michelle Yeoh), and his sheltered younger brother. They must all work together to figure out who is systematically targeting their family, while dealing with the fallout of being separated for 15 years. One problem: Bruce has been kept deliberately in the dark all these years about what his family really does.
Subverting the Asian Gangster Stereotype
The Asian gangster genre is a double-edged sword. The action, violence, grit, loyalty, intrigue, and forbidden aspects draw me in and keep me rapt. I am a complete sucker for them. Alternatively, it is often rife with stereotypes, shoehorning Asian and Asian American stories into the narrow world of tongs, triads, yakuzas, and Khangpaes. For too long, gangsters, human trafficking victims, martial artists, and nerds were the only faces of Asians in western media, and I longed for shows about “real” Asian American people bumbling about in their boring lives just like mine, except funnier and better-looking.
What a delight it is to have both.
The series uses the gangster trope to showcase so many of our different Asian American stories. Interspersed between the extraordinary…
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